


For Queen and Country

by queenmevesknickers



Category: Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmevesknickers/pseuds/queenmevesknickers
Summary: This is how it ends. Alone, surrounded by your fallen men, a Nilfgaardian spear buried in your chest. But thank the gods, at least you did your duty.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	For Queen and Country

The pain he could live with, Reynard thought.

For, as terrible as it was, he knew full well he wasn’t going to be living with it for very much longer. A wound like this, a spear stuck through his chest, its shaft slick with his blood and every breath a ragged effort – one hardly needed to be a medic to know he didn’t have much time left. That – that was a little more difficult to resign himself to, though he had little choice in the matter. Every part of him struggled against calm acceptance, desperate to keep fighting, but he forced himself to stay still, to resist the temptation to pull out the spear, knowing it would only make things worse.

He’d done it, at least, thank the gods. It’d taken every one of them to a man, but they’d got that bloody gate open – done their duty, one and all. And if the roar of fighting and clash of steel that echoed up the guardhouse steps were anything to go by, their sacrifice had not been in vain. That brought him some solace, peace, even, in the face of death. But how he wished he could find out what was happening, know how Meve and the rest of their force fared. He did not doubt that they could succeed, but it pained him, even more than the wound, that he would probably not live to see their victory. Briefly, he wondered if he had enough strength left to get to a window, to try and see what was going on. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat. No, he did not.

He instead strained to hear what he could, tried to judge what calls sounded Lyrian, which yells might have come from the Blackclads. But it was impossible to tell which way the tide turned from the sounds alone, and he had just about given up when he heard a cry in a very familiar voice; it made his chest ache in a completely different way than the spear did. The clatter of someone in armour running up the stairs and then –

There she was. He might have believed he was just seeing things, his mind trying to find some comfort in his last moments, if she hadn’t been thoroughly splattered in blood from head to toe. His breathing felt almost a little easier at the sight of her, his fierce, brave, beautiful queen. He was so proud of her; gods, how he loved her. He felt a twinge of regret at the pain and alarm in her expression at the sight of him – but still, he was so very glad to be able to see her one more time.

He was so grateful that he would not die alone.

She rushed over to him at once, tugging off her cloak, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood. He hadn’t the heart to tell her it was too late – besides, he wasn’t sure how much he could speak.

“Help’s on the way,” she said, her tone urgent, her voice pleading. “Please hold on, please…”

He almost wanted to laugh; how like her, to order him to live. But he thought even a chuckle would probably finish him off at this point; already, the edges of his vision were starting to go dark. There was so much he wished he could say. So much now he never would.

“I’m sorry…yet this one time…” he whispered. “I can’t do as you command…my queen…”

He lifted his eyes to hers and saw they were filled with tears - she understood now. He hardly noticed the pain anymore.

She had such extraordinary eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DID I WRITE THIS


End file.
